100 Fremione One Shots
by Dinky-Di-Dovahkiin
Summary: 100 Fred Weasley/Hermione Granger one shots written from xabandonedaccountx's 100 prompts. This will, over time, tell a whole story about Hermione and Fred's relationship. Rated M for reasons that will be made clear in the future.
1. Haunted

Hermione couldn't close her eyes without seeing flashes of the war. Flashes of spells ricocheting off of worn stone walls and mournful shouts echoing around her. Friends and foes falling in a bitter display of humanity. Despite all of the fragmented memories, however, there was one moment that she recalled in agonising detail.

The moment he almost died.

Hermione's eyes welled with tears every time she thought about it. The wall near the Room of Requirement had exploded with almost no warning. A stealthy blasting curse from an unknown Death Eater was the cause. Fred Weasley had been the only one injured in the blast, a surprising occurrence considering its size, but his injuries were so extensive that Madam Pomfrey claimed he was worth the work of 5 patients.

Hermione had only been ten metres away from the wall when it blew, and had been one of the first to reach the rubble and begin digging Fred out. All of her usual rational thinking was discarded as she dug at the rubble with her bare hands. Even with Harry, Ron and Percy helping, the rubble seemed to shift slowly. When all of Fred was visible, Percy and Ron scooped him up quick smart, dragging his limp body in the direction of the Great Hall. Hermione wanted to follow but Harry had stopped her.  
"We need you here, Hermione," he told her with a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Hermione nodded wordlessly and pulled her wand out of her pocket before she leapt into the fray once more.

* * *

Blinking back tears, Hermione looked down at the stretcher in front of her. Fred slept peacefully in front of her, looking far better than he had when Ron and Percy carried him away. He was slowly regaining his colour and had even woken up once. There was immense damage to his front from the impact of the explosion plus the force of the rubble on top of him. The damage was especially bad on his face, torso and arms but Madam Pomfrey was working to the best of her ability to minimise the scarring.

Besides George, Hermione was the only one who hadn't left the ginger boy's bedside for three days. She couldn't bear it, not with those memories crushing her whenever she was devoid of other thoughts. No, she couldn't leave him because in that instant when it was realised Fred was beneath the rubble, Hermione realised her long standing feelings for Fred as more than just a friend.


	2. Clock

Hermione sat in living room of the Burrow, oblivious to the hustle and bustle around her. She was watching the Weasley's clock with great interest. The old clock had always been a point of intrigue to her, unless of course she actually wanted to know the time. Hermione's keen gaze was focused on the pair of silver hands that represented Fred and George. They were taking longer than usual, being gone for almost three hours more than they usually would.

The two hands still pointed at the word 'hospital', indicating that Fred wasn't done with his check-up yet. Ever since the battle ended, almost a month ago now, Madam Pomfrey insisted that the wounds needed to be checked at least twice a month. This was mostly for the purpose of re-bandaging the larger and more difficult to heal wounds and to apply a healing salve to the rest of Fred's body. This process did take a while, as the healers at St. Mungo's made sure to not aggravate the wounds and slow down the healing process, but today was taking exceptionally longer than usual. Hermione glanced away from the clock for a moment, only to hear the unmistakeable metallic _click_ of the clock's hands moving. Her gaze jerked back to the clock as the silver hands tick-tocked their way to the 'travelling' label.

Hermione perked up at this sight and slid her worn bookmark in between the pages of the book she had been trying to occupy herself with.

Hermione had been trying to distract herself since the battle. She'd had many job offers from the Ministry of Magic and other esteemed organisations but she had turned them all down. It had only been a month since she had stopped running and the feeling of having to not worry about anything too momentous was most enjoyable for Hermione. There was one thing that did worry her, however…

After the battle and her constant vigil over Fred ended, she was consumed by how suddenly these feelings for Fred had revealed themselves. She had always fancied Fred just a little bit. She always brushed off the feeling as just a silly schoolgirl crush. He was clever, charming and devious in a way that Hermione admired. That rebellious attitude was something that Hermione found refreshing as her own demeanour was, in her opinion, dull. Especially when compared to that of the boisterous twins or even her two best friends, Harry and Ron. Hermione hummed softly as she thought, her heart getting that strange tickling feeling, growing stronger the more she thought about Fred.

 _Whirr… click!_

The clock handles with Fred and George's names on them moved again, this time resting on the 'home' label. Hermione looked up at the clock just as the twins walked through the front door of the Burrow.

"We have returned!" George hooted as he took off his travelling cloak. "I know, I know. You all missed us."

"How was Healer Marjory? Did she say how your wounds are healing?" Hermione called to Fred, who was being smothered by Mrs Weasley in a tight embrace.

Fred detached himself from his mother and meandered his way over to Hermione, plopping himself down in the armchair across from her. "She was alright, y'know, as far as healers go," Fred shrugged. "She said I was healing at a 'moderate rate' too, which I s'pose is better than healing slowly."

Hermione nodded, fiddling with a frayed corner of her book as he spoke. "That's great, Fred. You'll be fully healed before long."

"Yeah. I can't wait til then. I can barely bloody move," Fred whined, stretching gingerly.

 _Whirr… click!_

"Looks like your father is home," Mrs Weasley announced after consulting the clock. "I'll have dinner on the table in five minutes and you had all better be washed and ready for dinner!"

Mrs Weasley's bellowed statement could be heard by everyone in the Burrow, sparking a flurry of movement. Fred stood carefully, gave Hermione a wink and left, leaving Hermione to blush furiously.


	3. Stare

3\. Stare

There was something hauntingly pretty about Fred's eyes. He would scoff at Hermione should she ever voice the thought aloud. No longer did they match those of his twin with the same ferocity. Mischievous though they remained, their once vibrant blue was dull; more subdued. Almost as though his soul was shining through, displaying which of the Weasley twins had been touched by death, remaining wounds and battle scars aside, of course.

Seated across the dining table from him and amongst the hubbub of the Burrow, Hermione had a chance to sneak glances (or rather longer than normal looks) at Fred.

" 'Miobe, pabs the pobato," called Ron through his typical overflowing mouth of food.

She shook her head at her ginger friend, contemplating feigning misunderstanding to teach him for talking with his mouth full, but realised before she did that this course of action would only lead to him asking again, potentially assaulting all those around them with half-chewed chunks of food. Hermione reached in front of her for the bowl of mashed potatoes, only to have it plucked out from in front of her by Mrs Weasley.

"Ronald, is that any way to behave when we have company?" She demanded. "I thought I raised you better."

The table erupted into giggles at the scolding that Ron received, causing him to sink lower in his chair. Hermione, assured that everyone was distracted by the laughter they shared, admittedly at her friend's expense, she took the chance to sneak another look at Fred… and was startled to see him staring intently at her. Her cheeks, only moments before a faint pink from the exertion of laughing, now burnt a furious red. Fred winked at her, his own mouth turning up at the corners with a smile.

"See something you like, Granger?" He quipped, low enough that anyone who wasn't listening closely wouldn't hear.  
Feeling oddly confident, Hermione fought back her initial embarrassment to snark back. "I could ask you the same, Weasley."

Sharing a small smile, the two picked on each other no more, as each quietly beamed that they had been noticed by the other.


	4. Sliding

004 – Sliding

"Come on, Granger!" the pair of voices appealed. "You know that we wouldn't get you to test out a totally humiliating product to test on you!"

"Yeah, they'd test it on Ron." Ginny sniggered, drawing a nasty look from her older brother, who currently sported a fluffy pink tiara that could not be removed from his head, by magic or brute force.

"You told me that it would make me stronger for 12 hours," Ron grumbled. "Bloody gits."

"You should know, by now, not to trust anything we say, Ronny," George grinned, tenderly patting Ron atop his potentially permanent new accessory, drawing a nasty string of curses from the youngest Weasley boy.

The twins turned their attention back to Hermione, their fervour renewed by revisiting the success of their product on Ron. Fred waved a small, innocuous looking box in front of her, chuckling as she backed away warily.

"Don't be like that, Hermione," Fred said, not allowing her to back further than a few meters away from he and his twin. "It's more of something to liven up a party than a prank."

Hermione's eyebrow quirked upwards. Curiosity had always been her downfall. Natural knowledge-seeking behaviour had defined many of her actions. Fred brandished the box excitedly, and Hermione admired the fact that he wasn't forcing her to partake in their test.

"You promise I won't end up humiliating myself?" She questioned carefully.

' _What are you thinking?_ ' the little voice inside her, that usually spoke up when she was going to be reckless with Harry and Ron, was shouting at her. Hermione wanted to trust Fred, but she knew that her crush was most likely going to end in her extreme embarrassment.

"Well, I can't promise that, but if you do embarrass yourself, it will be mostly your own fault," he grinned, and at Hermione's nod of permission, hurled the box away from them.

It fell with little noise, which surprised Hermione. She, Ginny and Ron watched the box keenly, waiting for it to explode and reveal something extravagant and goofy. Before anyone could make a witty comment, Fred stepped forward with his wand brandished in front of him.

"Aguamenti!" the spell conjured a torrent of water from the tip of his wand, which Fred aimed carefully at the box as it sat in the middle of the orchard they usually used for Quidditch.

The box changed slowly, the water evoking something in the clever spellwork of the item. It swelled until it was about the size of a large cauldron before…

 _ **POP**_

In a shower of confetti and water, the box blew up to reveal what could only be described as a muggle slip and slide. The only difference was that this one seemed to be self-watering, with spouts of water erupting from its sides, making grand little arches. Hermione squealed in delight at the sight. This was definitely not what she was expecting when the twins had approached her earlier.

"Fred got the idea when you were telling him about how you spent the summers before you knew you were a witch." George explained. "We thought it was such a wacky idea, the ,what do you call 'em? Slippy slides?"

"Slip and slides." Hermione corrected, shooting a smile in Fred's direction. "I haven't been on one of these in forever! Will you all be trying it too?"  
Ron grumbled, apparently so downtrodden by his tiara that he was unwilling to take part in any fun. Ginny looked uncertain, and the twins just looked too proud of themselves for Hermione to be able to discern whether they would use their creation or not.

"We made the thing, sure, but I have no idea how you're meant to use the bloody thing," George admitted.

"It's all in the name. Slip and slide." Hermione explained, getting carried away at the idea of the contraption from her youth. "You take a run up, and then you slide down it. It's not the best way to cool down, but it's so much fun."

"So, you willingly hurl yourself down this massive slippery thing?" said Ginny sceptically. "I might wait for you to give it a go and not hurt yourself before I even think about it."

Hermione laughed. Her friend was usually brave, living up to the Gryffindor trait of being courageous and jumping into things, sometimes literally, without thinking. It was funny to think that it was herself instead that would be setting the 'reckless' example for once. Not that a slip and slide was the pinnacle of extreme sports but it could get a bit crazy sometimes, what when many people are trying to slide all at once, limbs and water going in every direction. At that thought, Hermione put her wand safely to the side, took three long steps backwards as she lined herself up with the start of the slide, and ran at full speed towards it.

Even Ron watched on in interest as the normally reserved girl barrelled her way towards the slide. She didn't care that she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, when normally one would be wearing something more like a bathing suit. She didn't care that everyone was watching on in odd fascination.

She cared that someone remembered a fond memory that she had told them about, and turned it into something new to be shared with those in now in her life. Hermione reached the edge of the slide and shifted so that she would slip down on her stomach. The chill of the water was startling but not unexpected or unwelcome. As she slid and noted that this was much more fluid than that of a muggle slip and slide. Magic was a wonderful thing. When she reached the end, Hermione flopped onto the grass, grinning at the fun she just had. The girl made to stand up on her own when she noticed a hand extended to her. While she was preoccupied, Fred had made his way down to the end of the slide.

"Was it as good as you remember?" He asked as he helped her up, pointedly not looking anywhere below her neck to where her wet clothes now clung to her body, accentuating certain features.

"Better." Hermione grinned. A moment passed, electricity seeming to flit between their clasped hands. "But since I survived, it's your turn now."

And just like that, the rest of the day was spent lazing in the orchard and playing on the slide. Even Mrs and Mr Weasley took part in the shenanigans. But it didn't go unnoticed that a certain pair were sharing more than their usual lingering looks.


	5. Dark Room & Crying

005 – Dark Room

No matter how hard she tried, sleep evaded her. Hermione checked her watch, ducking under the bed covers to use her wand to illuminate its face without waking Ginny. _1:24am_ , it read. Hermione groaned and carefully got out of bed. If sleep wouldn't come, there was no point in spending time wallowing in bed. So, armed with her wand and her battered copy of _Hogwarts: A History,_ Hermione slipped out of the bedroom, creeping through the quiet house, careful to avoid the floorboards she knew were creaky.

With her wand lit, she found her way downstairs to the living room easily. Hermione settled on the couch, crossing her legs and resting the book against the support they gave. She opened the cover of the book with a sort of tender affection. She had owned this copy of the book for many years, and it showed its age. Despite the care she treated her books with, this book had scuffed edges, dog-eared pages, and an odd stain on the back cover. These quirks had mostly been picked up on their mission to find the horcruxes, with care being exchanged for rushed research of spells or potions, and their usual bookcase replaced by the bottom of an undetectably extended bag. Not exactly an ideal home for her paper children, but in those days, beggars could not be choosers. Hermione let the memories wash over her; the fear she felt, especially during the battle. So many people lost in such a short period of time. And her Fred was nearly one of them. Tears brimmed as she remembered how worried everyone was… How worried she was… Hermione sniffled and wiped away her tears furiously. She had no right to be crying. She hadn't lost anyone she was close to during the battle. Her _almost loss_ was no comparison to other people's _forever loss_. She felt selfish at her momentary lapse, but couldn't help her reaction. The Battle of Hogwarts had taken its toll on all in different ways on all of the different people that were involved. Ron couldn't hear about it without feeling faint and turning a sickly shade of white. Harry had regular, vivid flashbacks. Hermione suffered from flashbacks too, and sometimes night terrors. She could never be sure if her body refused to sleep in order to avoid a night terror episode, or if it was entirely unrelated. At some point during her mournful reminiscing, the light produced by her wand faded, leaving the room dark. Her eyes were red and puffy now, and Hermione was glad that it was the middle of the night. So that nobody could see how vulnerable she really was. Hermione took deep breaths, in an attempt to calm herself and prevent the ugly, choked sobs from escaping. But the dark room was suffocating her. It wrapped her in a thick and unwelcome embrace, making her efforts to calm herself almost useless. Her sobs became louder and louder as the darkness made the room smaller and smaller. Hermione was all but consumed by her sorrow when a stair creaked in the darkness and a familiar voice was heard.

"Lumos,"

Light spouted from the tip of a wand, illuminating the room, and the person who was brandishing the wand.

"F-fred?" Hermione hiccupped, her words twisted by her continued sobs.

Fred said nothing, simply looking down on Hermione before he closed the distance between her and gathered her in his arms. His embrace was warm and comforting to Hermione and though she continued to cry, the feeling of suffocation left her and the tears she shed eventually slowed.

"Hermione, are you okay?" He asked once he was confident she could form a coherent sentence.

"I'm.. I'm f-fine," She blubbered. "I just have trouble sleeping sometimes."

"I think we all do," Fred nodded, pushing a strand of hair away from her tear-stained face. "The nightmares are the worst. Just a horrible explosion and the feeling of being crushed again… It's enough to make anyone not want to sleep."

Hermione looked up at Fred, his red hair made luminous by the wand light. "I'm sorry Fred. You must dread going to sleep sometimes. To have to relive that, it would be… horrible."

"It is. But that doesn't mean what you are going through is any less worse. We're all suffering, but that doesn't mean we can't help one another out." Fred comforted with a small smile. "I hate seeing you upset, Hermione. I mean, sure, I almost died, but you went through a lot in your own way."

As Fred said this, he ran his fingers over the scar on Hermione's forearm… ' _mudblood_ ', the morbid writing remained even now. Hermione shivered at the contact, she still wasn't completely comfortable with people touching her forearm, thanks to Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Fred," Hermione began, looking up at the young man she held so much affection for. "Thank you, for being with me now. It's hard to handle this stuff alone sometimes."

"Its okay, Hermione," He smiled at her. "Maybe we should cut a deal, if either of us are having a rough time, we can lean on the other for support."

Hermione nodded, still reeling that one of Fred's arms was around her shoulder. "That would be nice."

On that note, Fred picked up the discarded copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ with his free hand and passed it to Hermione. "Can I be honest with you Hermione? I've never read this book. Wasn't a required reading at Hogwarts and I think once George and I found the Marauders' Map, we knew a good bit about Hogwarts that the book didn't know." He grinned at the shocked face Hermione pulled.

"I want to say that I can't believe that, but you're related to Ron, so what should I expect?" Hermione quipped back, flicking the book open to the first chapter. "I could read some to you, if you'd like?"

Fred smiled. "I'd like that."

So there they sat, glowing in the wand light as Hermione read page after page aloud, until both fell asleep. As soon as its owner was unconscious, the wand dimmed the light, leaving Hermione and Fred shrouded in darkness once more. However, this darkness was not thick and suffocating like earlier in the night. It was comfortable and warm, like a friendly embrace. When the others in the Weasley household rose in the morning, they found the pair snoring quietly together, their tentative hug becoming a tangle of limbs as they slept. Yet no one, not even Mrs Weasley, dared to wake their peaceful slumber.


End file.
